Tradition is important. Many people have end of the year traditions and I am no different. For some it’s a special meal; my sister and her husband used to eat lobster on New Year’s Eve, that is, until she left her husband and ceased to care about either marriage or lobsters. For others, it’s going out and celebrating in some fashion, getting all dressed up and drinking their way into a new year and, for some, a new start.
For me, it’s going to sleep at my usual time, well before midnight, and not giving a damn about the fact that it’s the final night of the year. That’s my tradition and I’m sticking to it this year. I always go through the same obligatory preparations. First, I say goodnight to my spouse, who may be watching TV with one of the cats on her chest. Then I get undressed, being careful to put on one of the same nightshirts that I always wear to bed. Because it is tradition, it is important to get it exactly as the time before, otherwise one has upset the tradition, you see.
Then, turning out the light, I fluff my pillow just right and ease into my usual position for retiring, typically uttering a soft sigh of contentment as I close my eyes and begin to slip away into dreamland.
Yes, tradition is important to me. I want to do everything possible to maintain it.
Zzzzzzzz